by Rebecca Rode
I stalked toward her and shoved her aside. She stepped back in surprise as I scooped up an armful of her clean laundry and headed for the fire.
It only took her a moment to see my purpose. She threw herself in front of the fireplace, arms outstretched. “Wait!”
“I’ve heard clothing burns quickly,” I said. “Let’s experiment, shall we? Or you can return my belongings to me right now.”
She frowned. “Ye didn’t have any money when I dragged ye here. The waves must have taken it.”
“You’re lying.” The coins had been tied to my belt when I fell. It was one of the few things I remembered. “Go fetch them, or your customers get a pile of ashes.”
She straightened, keeping her arms wide in case I made another move toward the fire. “I didn’t have to help ye.”
Infuriating woman. “I didn’t ask for your help, but I would have paid you for it anyway. Tell me what’s left.”
“Only the comb.” She tore it out of her apron pocket and shoved it toward me. “Worthless. The market wouldn’t take it, said the jewels were fake. Poor imitation too.”
I dropped the laundry to the dirt floor and took the comb back. She immediately went to work retrieving the pile of cloth and glowering at me. She needed to rewash it now, but she was lucky to have it intact at all.
“Your market is open at night?” I asked, processing her words. She’d managed to sell Aden’s seashell buttons and spend all my gold in a single night. If I weren’t so angry, I’d be impressed.
“’Twas this afternoon, while ye were asleep. Didn’t think ye’d wake at all, to be honest. Spent the night before tipping soup into yer sorry mouth until you gagged. I’ll be right happy for my bed back.” She glared at me again and dumped the armful of laundry into the corner.
I groaned. I’d wasted an entire day, and now I had no money. “Are the pirates still here?”
She frowned. “Admiral Belza’s ships loaded up with supplies and left this morning. Bound for Hughen, they say.”
Some of the strength left me, and I felt myself swaying again. That was it, then. Aden was gone. I imagined him locked up in a real brig, possibly injured or beaten, believing he’d failed in his mission to save his family. All because he’d bargained his future on the wrong ship and crew. Did he regret meeting me at all?
A million questions and no answers. I’d go mad if I thought on this any longer.
The aproned woman set herself to examining the now-dirtied clothing. “Yer a… friend… of Admiral Belza?”
I snorted. “Far from it.”
“An enemy, then. Sworn to take Belza’s head and avenge some lover.” She chuckled softly. “I’ve heard that story for years. Funny thing—nobody ever succeeds.”
He’d taken far worse than that from me, and I would have revenge. The hunger for retaliation was a dim fire in my chest. I slid the comb into my pocket. Now I had nothing of worth to trade and no boots, not to mention no way to escape from here. “I have to get to Hughen. Are there any other ships in the harbor?”
She yanked a shirt from the pile. “I’ve a mind not to say, after ye’ve treated me in such a deplorable manner. Saved yer life, I did, and ye stomp around threatening to burn things.”
“I didn’t have to threaten,” I said with a pointed look. “Answer me and I’ll leave you in peace.”
She scowled at the laundry. “None in the harbor, but there’s a ship in the bay near Lady’s Port. Looked to be Ellegran built, although I spotted a few women in the bunch. Must be KaBann.” Her mouth twisted in distaste.
Eurion’s Edict was law here in Messau as well. How a KaBann crew had docked so publicly without repercussions, I had no idea. I tucked the information away. “Do you know where they’re headed and where they hail from?”
“What am I, some kind of informant?”
“I want to leave as much as you want me gone.”
She paused at that. “Heard they intended for Hughen but got turned away. That’s all I know. Ye’ll find out more in town if it’s that important.”
“How far is that?”
She glanced away from my bare feet. “Eight miles. If ye left now ye’d reach it round sunrise.”
Her boots were new too, I realized. They squeaked when she moved, which meant new leather. At least she hadn’t spent the money all on liquor.
“I’ll take those boots,” I said. “And some food for the road.” The woman’s build looked more slender and slightly shorter than mine, but it was close enough. “Actually, give me your blouse and skirt too. Everything you’re wearing now. Then I’ll consider us even.”
Her eyes flashed. “Enemy of a pirate, eh?”
I ignored her jab. “I’ll take what’s mine or I’ll take what’s yours, but I’d best be holding what I need in one minute.”
The woman growled but obeyed. She scurried about her home, gathering food into a bag. Bits of green cheese, a crust of old bread, even what looked like a slimy marinated tomato. Then she retreated to another corner to change. She managed a fitful stomp as she shoved the pile into my hands.
I smirked and donned the clothes, tossing my old ones onto her bed. The blouse fit fine, but the skirt pulled too tight around my thighs. I tugged at it to no avail. These pockets would never hold all I needed them to hold. Besides, my belt and scabbards looked ridiculous.
Finally, I slipped my trousers back on and tossed her the skirt. Blending in would be difficult anyway with my short hair. Let them wonder about the girl who wore men’s trousers and had axes at her belt.
The woman pinched the skirt between two fingers, eyeing it in distaste. “Ye never told me yer name.”
“Laney Garrow.” Two words that hadn’t left my mouth in eleven years. The significance of the moment felt both sweet and bitter, like old candy. I slid the boots on and gave them a shake. They were a bit large, but a far cry better than going barefoot.
“May Belza find ye, Laney Garrow.” The woman stood there, stone-faced. She hadn’t offered her own name. She probably would have lied if I’d asked. She lived behind a wall of half-truths and uncertainty. It was a life I knew too well.
I gave her a nod as I stalked outside.
The moon lit the road as if directing my path. Gathering resolve around my heart like a shield, I headed for the distant lights of town.
My boots slipped on the sandy road as dawn began to drive away the shadows. I’d walked for hours, yet the city still remained far in the distance. Structures dotted the road, their fronts half-covered in sand blown in from the coast. Even now I felt it, the fierce winds determined to rip my breath away. What Hughen had in rain, it seemed Messau had in wind.
Another gale hit, threatening to lift me off my feet. I wrapped my arms around myself for warmth. There were no trees or mountains to offer shelter. No wonder Khral Rasmus wanted Hughen back. This land was a dead thing, a country that stretched a dozen miles before the next hill. I’d have given anything for Hughen cobblestone about now.
A market wagon appeared in the distance. A man with a large girth held the reins, swaying as if drunk. Armed guards perched in the wagon bed behind him, facing a crowd of about twenty people shuffling along behind. As I drew closer, I realized they were secured to the cart. If they tripped, the mule-drawn wagon would simply drag them along.
Slaves. Messaun ports were full of them, whipped like mutts when they stumbled or failed to move quickly enough. The slavers were one reason I always stayed aboard when we docked in Messau, though my disguise had given me some degree of assurance. Orphan boys could serve as apprentices and were therefore more worthy of protection. Few noticed when orphan girls disappeared. In the city’s eyes, it only meant fewer beggars lining the streets.
I squinted to better see the group of enslaved people. My suspicions were confirmed. Children.
They varied in size, the youngest a girl of perhaps five years. She stumbled after the rest, struggling to find her footing in the rocks. Only a few wore shoes. My breath hitched as I detected strea
ks of blood in the graveled road.
As I approached, the small girl turned as if startled by my footsteps. There were bruises along her face, neck, even the collarbone beneath her torn dress. Her haunted eyes darted to me under choppy brown hair, her face splotchy with sunburn. Five year-days old. The same age I’d been when my own world had shifted forever.
The guard lifted his whip as a warning and snapped at her, but she watched me a second longer. Then, as if deciding I was neither threat nor hero, she turned back to the cart and let it jerk her along.
Brown hair. Deeply tanned skin. One thing was clear—this was no child of Messau. The girl was clearly Hughen.
King Eurion had publicly denounced the rumors of enslaved Hughens appearing on Messaun front lines of late, but now I wondered. Could the khral be kidnapping Hughen’s most vulnerable citizens to build his forces quickly? When would King Eurion see the truth and take action?
A sickening realization made me stop in my tracks. If the king died, this was what Khral Rasmus had in mind for Hughen. It was exactly what Aden had been fighting against. And I’d been too caught up in my own problems to care.
I tried to recall what the history book said, wishing I’d been able to salvage it. Hughen suffered decades of starvation and slavery under Messaun rule—until Elena defeated Messau and took control. Finally freed from their captors, Hughen had gathered its military and fought back, defeating Elena and striking at Messau, which struggled to regain its footing. Within weeks, King Eurion declared independence and drew up the treaty that had kept Hughen safe for twenty years. It would’ve kept them safe for another twenty had the former khral lived to renew it.
I hadn’t required Aden’s missive to know the new khral, Rasmus, had a chilling reputation. I had a feeling his betrayal of King Eurion at the Treaty Festival would be just the beginning of a bloody reign—one designed to make Hughen suffer. To make King Eurion and his family suffer.
A hitch of panic drove me on. I sent the little girl one last look. I couldn’t help her, not with armed guards eyeing me from the wagon. But I could help Aden, and he could convince his father to help people like her. As much as I hated King Eurion, he was a hundred times better than Khral Rasmus. I just had to reach Hughen before the exchange happened.
Before they killed Aden too.
I would fight for him, for that little girl. For every sailor who’d hung from the gallows, and for Father and Paval and Barrie. I would not let evil men like Belza and Rasmus succeed.
They would know my name before this was over.
My lungs felt raw in this dry wind, but I increased my stride and let my too-large boots eat up the distance between me and town.
I reached the town before the sun peeked over its rooftops, trying to ignore the blisters forming on my heels. I passed through the stone gate and followed the line of wagons toward the market.
It looked similar to the market squares I’d visited in Hughen, though a far cry dirtier. The biggest difference was the people. They kept their eyes downcast like the girl had, barely giving one another a glance rather than engaging in lazy conversation. No lords and ladies walked about on these streets. They must have ridden in carriages, beyond the city’s grime. Or perhaps there just weren’t many at all.
The smell of freshly baked bread and sausage permeated the air. My stomach growled as a city guard trotted past on his chestnut gelding. A few minutes later, a second rode past, followed by a contingent of soldiers on foot. I plastered myself against a wall and kept my head low, but I felt their curious gazes as they marched by. I gave a shiver as the last one passed.
A man with a flat tasseled hat walked by. He looked harmless enough, and I was running out of time. “Excuse me,” I said. “Where is Lady’s Port?”
His eyes ran down my body and stopped at my trousers. He gave a smirk and walked away, shaking his head.
Right. People saw me as a girl now.
A quick stop at a baker’s stand and I had my directions, though the woman’s eyes bored into my back as I left. She wasn’t the only one staring. I gripped one of my axe handles and returned their scowls with my own. My trousers set me apart like a flame in shadows. I began to jog.
The roads grew narrower and traffic thinned. Soon I was alone in the quiet streets, my footsteps echoing harshly against the tall buildings looming over me. Each stood right up against the other with no space between them, most three stories high with faded paint and centuries of history. Despite its sandy streets, Messau’s capital city made Hughen look like an infant just finding its legs.
A rotten fish smell grew stronger as I reached the edge of town. A right turn, then another, and I was there.
The port was smaller than Hughen’s, with one hangar and a single dry dock for ship repairs. The laundry woman had been correct. The waiting ship was of Ellegran make. The only odd part was the figurehead at the bow. Instead of the usual big-busted, unclothed goddess, the figure was a bare-chested man with a scarf wrapped about his throat and trailing behind him. The sight was so bizarre, I gaped for a moment. Definitely KaBann.
Paval’s warnings about KaBann politics brought a tumble of nerves to my stomach once more, but I had little choice. Now that I was Laney, no ship would transport me to Hughen as a passenger.
I had to try anyway. Nay, I had to succeed. Aden had nobody else to count on.
I remembered the city planner and his barrels of stones. Everyone wants something. I just had to discover what this particular captain needed most. Blowing out a breath that lifted my hair, I strode onto the docks and sauntered to the gangplank.
The man waiting there wore a copper necklace above his bright white tunic, his chest exposed to reveal a fistful of dark hair. His gut hung over his belt, and what hair remained on his head looked matted, but I could tell by the way he stood that he knew his way around a blade. He smirked as I approached. “We’ve enough hands, lass. Those axes for sale?”
I gripped the handle to my right. “Nay, and I don’t want work. I need passage.”
“Passage? To KaBann?” He snorted. “That would cost you indeed.”
Disappointment hung heavy in my chest. “You’re going to KaBann?”
“Aye, soon as the captain arrives. Sure you don’t want to sell those axes? I been looking for a good fighting pair.”
“They’re not for sale, and I don’t intend to travel to KaBann.” Someday perhaps, but not yet. “I need to get to Hughen immediately. Please tell me where I can find your captain.”
“My darling.” The man placed a fist to his heart and gave a slight bow. I blinked before realizing he addressed someone behind me.
“Hughen?” The tall woman made a tsk-tsk sound. Her bright clothing contrasted starkly with her skin tone—dark skin, the same tone as Paval’s, which wrenched my heart a bit. She wore an identical copper necklace to the bosun’s, and her tunic dropped nearly as low, revealing more cleavage than I’d ever boast in my life. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, dear. Hughen’s new embargo has southern merchants quite upset. Thankfully, I managed to sell most of my cargo in town, but you can bet I won’t be returning next year. If you’ll excuse me.” She slipped past, her movements as graceful as a dancer’s, and picked her way up the gangplank.
I blinked, watching her go. The khral’s navy blocked ships from reaching Hughen. Surely King Eurion wouldn’t have stood for that. It wasn’t a good sign. I rubbed my temples, feeling another headache forming.
“Thank you, Captain,” the bosun called behind him. His eyes were mirthful as he studied me. “You’ve been dismissed. Unless you’ve other business, you’ll have to find another ship headed north. Though that isn’t likely.”
I slid to the ground and leaned against the post, knees bent to the sky. He was right. Even if I found a ship bound for Hughen, what did I have to offer? A pair of ill-fitting boots and a sad tale of woe? There wasn’t time to work and earn passage fare. I could leave right now and still be too late to save Aden.
“You look a little
rough there, lass,” the bosun said, looking down on me.
I snorted. “That’s what a mutiny, pirates, and near drowning will do to you.”
“Pirates?” the captain repeated, turning about at the rail above. “You said pirates attacked your ship?”
“Aye. Captain Belza himself.”
The man scowled. “You’re mistaken, lass. If it were Belza, you wouldn’t be alive.”
“I stowed away undiscovered. You probably saw his ships in the harbor yesterday.” He’d likely spent every coin of Father’s gold by now.
The bosun looked shaken. A look passed between him and the captain. “Belza didn’t come into town,” she said, “but I recognized his men in the market. If they’re bound for Hughen, best travel the opposite direction as fast as you can. Belza doesn’t like survivors.”
“They took a prisoner. A valuable one.” That sparked an idea, and I straightened. “There will be a reward for his rescue, the likes of which will set me up for life. I hoped to share some of it with those who helped me, but it seems you’re bent on going south, so I’ll look elsewhere.” I shrugged and pushed to my feet.
The captain chuckled. “You’re a clever one, but my ship doesn’t operate on promises. Especially when pirates are involved. Unless you’ve enough gold to run half a kingdom, our conversation is finished.”
I cursed that laundry woman and pulled Mum’s comb from my pocket. “This is the only item of value I have.”
The bosun swept it from my hand and hurried up the gangplank, passing it to the captain. She examined the comb in the sunlight, her eyes widening. “That We May Live Long Together. An intriguing inscription. I haven’t seen one of these in ages.” She held it for the man’s inspection.
“It’s fake,” he grumbled. “Even I can tell as much.”
“It’s not about the jewels. Where did you get this, girl?”
I blinked, trying to hide my surprise. “It was a gift for my mother, but she rejected it. Now it’s mine. Grant me passage to Hughen, and I may consider parting with it.”
